Thursday, February 05, 2009

Privacy Wall Repair

Finally. And, no, no one called me like the woman at maintenance said they would. Yeah. Shocking, isn't it? I was on the phone two mornings ago with a friend and actually had a question for her husband - who wasn't home. She said, "He better get home pretty soon - I'm going to be late for work and he needs to give me a ride." No problem - I'll just jump in the truck right now and give you a ride. Why didn't you just ask? So, two minutes later I was in front of her house and she jumped in the truck. She is doing "follow-up" work, part-time, making telephone calls to see if people are satisfied with maintenance. I just happened to mention that I had called about our privacy wall and was told that someone would call me and that I never got a call. Friend told her supervisor about it and lo and behold - I finally got a call and someone came to find out what our problem was. [I've got the supervisor's name and number on speed dial, now.] Here is the problem:

If the gate was shutting properly I wouldn't care about the cracked cement. This isn't our house - we rent it - and if it falls apart it is not a big concern. I do, however, need to be able to shut, lock and latch the gate door. And, right now, because the wall is separating - the gate has shifted and is moving downward. I don't know how else to describe it. I can get the gate shut, but it barely locks now - and only with difficulty. It cannot be latched at all. That is a problem. I want to be able to let The Kids out without having to worry that the gate is going to be opened and that The Kids will have the opportunity to escape. I am not so much worried about The Baby - she doesn't leave my side when we are outside the yard - but The Boy? He'd be off like a shot and wouldn't come back if there was something more interesting - say, a cat, to chase. It scares me to think what could / would happen if The Boy were to get out.

A maintenance crew came yesterday to fix the wall. Another crew is coming Saturday - in shallah - to repair the gate and get it to close properly so that I can lock and latch it, and someone else is coming to paint the repaired cement wall.

The supervisor of the crew that was here yesterday afternoon answered every single one of my questions with "in shallah." Sometimes I think if I hear that one more time I am going to snap! It means, "God willing." Yeah. I know what it means. It means if the sun and the moon and the stars are all lined up properly, if the day of the week doesn't end in "Y" and if whoever is in charge that day doesn't wake up to soggy corn flakes or runny eggs then the matter will be taken care of. I don't want to hear "in shallah." I want an answer to my questions - a simple "yes" or "no" will suffice just fine, thankyouverymuch!

2 comments:

I read about an infantry captain in Bahgdad who threatened to shoot the next civilian who ended his words with "inshallah". The suspicious fellows said it anyhow: it's a deep reflex that cannot be shaken off and yes it means "it's God's fault if i am lying to you." Taking responsibilaty for their own word of honour would be as unlikely as not taking bribes.

I have threatened people with a good neck squeezing, more than once or twice, Vermindust. You should have seen when they were redoing this house we now live in. "When will it be done." "In six weeks. In shallah." Three months later... Still getting "in shallah." I actually said, "Do not EVER say that to me again!" I didn't want to be arrested for assault so I kept my arms and hands at my side so as to not choke the supervisor in charge. In shallah, my ass! Just do it and do it now!!! Our pool fix-it guy needs to say it to me just once. Just once. And he is done. I almost want to dare him. There are a lot of places to dig holes in the desert...

About Me

Once upon a time, in the not too distant past, there was a Woman who thought she was living the American Dream. Her childhood, although now not particularly memorable, was fairly normal. She went to school. She got a job. She met a tall, blonde and handsome pilot and married him. It was all good. They were the perfect “Ken and Barbie” couple. The handsome pilot built her the house of her dreams in North Carolina, where she thought they would live for the remainder of their many, many days to come. Circumstances, totally out of the control of this lovely Ken and Barbie couple, changed everything. Shortly afterward, they came to find themselves living a whole new life in the Eastern Province of Saudi Arabia. Oh, sure, they are still the perfect “Ken and Barbie” couple, but Barbie now wears an abeyah over her designer outfits when she leaves her house, she has given up her pink convertible because she is not allowed to drive, and she no longer has an office that she visits five days a week, instead choosing to spend her time as a stay-at-home wife and an over-protective, doting Mommy to their two absolutely adorable, much loved and very, very pampered four-legged “Kids.”